The meal proved to be an interesting one to Peter.  First, he found that all the guests were well-known party men, whose names and opinions were matters of daily notice in the papers.  What was more, they talked convention affairs, and Peter learned in the two hours’ general conversation more of true “interests” and “influences” and “pulls” and “advantages” than all his reading and talking had hitherto gained him.  He learned that in New York the great division of interest was between the city and country members, and that this divided interest played a part in nearly every measure.  “Now,” said one of the best known men at the table, “the men who represent the city, must look out for the city.  Porter’s a fine man, but he has no great backing, and no matter how well he intends by us, he can’t do more than agree to such bills as we can get passed.  But Catlin has the Monroe members of the legislature under his thumb, and his brother-in-law runs Onandaga.  He promises they shall vote for all we want.  With that aid, we can carry what New York City needs, in spite of the country members.”

“Would the country members refuse to vote for really good and needed city legislation?” asked Peter.

“Every time, unless we agree to dicker with them on some country job.  The country members hold the interest of the biggest city in this country in their hands, and threaten or throttle those interests every time anything is wanted.”

“And when it comes to taxation,” added another, “the country members are always giving the cities the big end to carry.”

“I had a talk with Catlin,” said Peter.  “It seemed to me that he wasn’t the right kind of man.”

“Catlin’s a timid man, who never likes to commit himself.  That’s because he always wants to do what his backers tell him.  Of course when a man does that, he hasn’t decided views of his own, and naturally doesn’t wish to express what he may want to take back an hour later.”

“I don’t like straw men,” said Peter.

“A man who takes other people’s opinions is not a bad governor, Mr. Stirling.  It all depends on whose opinion he takes.  If we could find a man who was able to do what the majority wants every time, we could re-elect him for the next fifty years.  You must remember that in this country we elect a man to do what we want—­not to do what he wants himself.”

“Yes,” said Peter.  “But who is to say what the majority wants?”

“Aren’t we—­the party leaders—­who are meeting daily the ward leaders, and the big men in the different districts, better able to know what the people want than the man who sits in the governor’s room, with a doorkeeper to prevent the people from seeing him?”

“You may not choose to do what the people want.”

“Of course.  I’ve helped push things that I knew were unpopular.  But this is very unusual, because it’s risky.  Remember, we can only do things when our party is in power, so it is our interest to do what will please the people, if we are to command majorities and remain in office.  Individually we have got to do what the majority of our party wants done, or we are thrown out, and new men take our places.  And it’s just the same way with the parties.”